The Locked Box
by Pesky Ixy Pesternomi
Summary: Ginny plays a game with Draco and Harry that goes too far, and now she must deal with her grief.


**I really hope that everyone enjoys this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've been in an angsty mood lately and I think I got a lot of it out with this. **

**I own nothing.**

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><p>Ginny never thought it would have come to this. It all began as a game, playing one against the other. She knew at the time how childish she truly had been, and how foolish. She liked to tell herself that she did what any woman in her position would have done, but she knew she was only making excuses.<p>

Of course, she had loved having both of their attention. Harry threw himself at her feet, always thinking he could never be good enough for her. She sometimes thought that he must regret how he disregarded her in their youth. No matter the reason though, Harry James Potter was entirely devoted and smitten by Ginevra Molly Weasley.

She remembered how she used to laugh and tease him, always manipulating him to her will. She loved that she finally had power over him. She loved that finally, after all that heartache she had experienced as a young girl, he wanted her too.

On the other hand, she had gone through so much to get over him. She had locked her feelings for him up in a little box inside her heart, nice and tight, determined to never let herself waste away over his lack of affections again. Because of this determination, Ginny had found another love, an unexpected love.

The look of surprise on her mother's face when she first brought Draco home and introduced him to her parents formally. She knew that they all thought it was just a phase for her, but she truly had cared about him, even if she hadn't shown it properly.

That was the thing about loving an ex-Death Eater. No matter how much she wanted to trust him, she never truly did, at least not fully. There was always the small part of her heart, perhaps it was the locked box, that whispered to her soul, telling her to be on her guard.

So, when they both came to her, within a few days of each other, confessing their love for her, she had paniced. She caught herself though. She decided to play her game, at least until she knew what she truly wanted.

She allowed them both to court her, playing out all the romantic fantasies she had ever imagined. A quidditch date with Harry, flying above the clouds at midnight and watching the full moon in all it's beauty. A chaste kiss that had awoken something inside of her, making that locked box shake and burst open.

Dancing with Draco, when he had stolen her away to Italy for the weekend. The busy club had all but faded away as their lips intertwined in the middle of the dance floor. It had been a passion that she had never known before, and his hands danced like fire upon her skin. She had made love to him that night, but instead of feeling complete and whole like she had expected, she felt empty, and she couldn't explain why.

She didn't let that unhinge her though. She continued her game, enjoying trips to the cinema, and long walks on the beach. She let her life become something material, and everytime the little whisper in her heart told her to stop, that she needed to choose, she would hush it.

It eventually caught up with her though, and she had been alone in her bedroom crying when he walked in. It sometimes surprised her that he could be so caring, she thought the war would have hardened him beyond repair, but with her, he was always warm.

She had cried hard into his shoulder, explaining how she had been using him. How she had been using them both and how she was a horrible excuse of a person. She cried and told him how she loved him, she loved them both so very much and she nolonger knew what to do.

She had been expecting him to get angry with her. To be upset about the way she had used them both, but he hadn't. He'd begun crying as well. Crying because she was crying. He told her that he had suspected, and that he would never be able to blame her. He told her that he could never be upset with her, because all of his life, he hadn't truly been living, until he allowed himself to accept the fact that he loved her, and that was the greatest gift she could have given him.

He told her to dry her tears, and that he already knew her decision. He told her he had suspected all along that he didn't have her whole heart, and that he couldn't live without it. So he was going to make the decision for her.

Her eyes had widened in disbelief and she made to jump off her bed and stop him, but before she could move, he had done the unthinkable. Never in his life had he been able to use that curse, not once during the war had he uttered those words, but in that final moment he had. He had turned his wand upon himself and whispered the words with tears in his eyes, _Avada Kedavra._

Ginny had screamed.

She had fallen to her knees clutching his body to her chest, and she had cried. She didn't move from that spot until Hermione had come to visit and had taken in the scene. Ginny kicked and screamed as the Auror's had pried his body from her hands and when she was finally defeated, she fell silent.

She hadn't spoken since.

Her eyes fixated upon the scene in front of her. The black lace of her dress itched against her skin but she didn't move. She wouldn't move. She couldn't feel, she just continued staring at the coffin in front of her, and all she could think of was how this time, this time she hadn't locked her love away in a box. This time it had been stolen from her, stolen away to a place she could never find it.

She felt him squeeze her hand, but she didn't look at him. She didn't turn her head, but he understood.

All too soon the funeral was over and Ginny sat still as people rose from their seats and left the church. She watched as they lay flowers on top of his coffin, and as they spoke words that fell on deaf ears.

Her partner stayed beside her, not speaking, not rushing her, and for that she was grateful, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

When they were the last two people in the church, he rose to stand by the door and wait for her, and on shaking legs, she walked towards the coffin with tears in her eyes. She tried to wiggle the lid, wanting to see his face a final time, but it remained firmly locked. She pressed a hand against the cool wood and cried silently for a few moments, before speaking for a final time to the man that lay cold inside it.

_"I would have chosen you."_

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><p><strong>R&amp;R<strong>


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